The Weight Of Responsibility
by iheartteensoaps
Summary: She'd been the victim for so long and now she was finally starting to release herself from those chains. She's needed now and it's up to her on how she wants to play it. The world is a dark place, but some people just don't know how dark. She's here to shed some light on it. Rick/OC One-shot sequel to The Weight Of Delirium


_Wow! I'm back so soon, lol! This one-shot literally wrote itself in one sitting. It just flowed and I loved the way it came out. It is a sequel to The Weight of Delirium so I suggest you read that story first. This is heavy on the angst and there's some smut so this is your warning. As much as I wanted this to be full of fluffy moments for Rick and Olivia, they're still trying to navigate their new relationship so it's more angst and emotion. This centers more on Olivia's encounter with Carl. That's what I really based this one-shot off of. Hopefully, you guys like it and I would love to keep adding to this couple in the future! Reviews and constructive criticism are welcomed and enjoy!_

I move closer to the fire and greedily accept its warmth and light as I keep watch for our makeshift camp. The days and nights were getting cooler signaling the end of summer. I wrap my ratted jacket tighter around myself ignoring the stench filtering off it. It felt like ages since we'd left the prison. In reality, it had only been a matter of days. It seems so surreal to be without a permanent home. It's surreal that I even survived. I don't know how, but I managed to not get myself killed throughout the chaos and find Rick half conscious from his brawl with The Governor. He was badly injured and Carl and I had to help him walk as we escaped with only the clothes on our back. It was devastating. Our home was gone. Judith was gone. Our group, our family was gone.

We'd managed to make it to a neighborhood of abandoned houses and regroup. Rick needed to rest, Carl needed to cool his attitude, and I needed a stiff drink. Rick didn't look well and all I could find in the house were some alcohol wipes and band aids for his wounded leg. It had to do. I tried to be brave. I tried to stay strong in the face of turmoil; to do the opposite of what I'd become accustomed to doing. These two men depended on me now and I had to keep it together. We couldn't afford for me to tip off the edge like I so badly wanted to.

It hurt me beyond belief to see Rick and Carl so fractured; to see what was left of this family break even further apart. I wasn't a highly religious person, but I started to pray. I prayed that Rick and Carl would come together and not continue to splinter apart. I prayed to find our group. Mostly, I prayed to not lose Rick. I couldn't bear the thought of living in this world without him. It was during these days that I should've broken, but I didn't. I stayed alive. I provided. I helped the Grimes family pick up the pieces and find a reason to keep going and miraculously…one of our own found us. Michonne.

Flash forward and here we are all. The fire is low enough to not alert others of our location. I managed to convince everyone to sleep while I kept watch. It took some convincing, especially in light of recent events, but everyone placated me and retreated to rest. We'd found Daryl the night before, but along with that came a gang of truly sick bastards. It had all happened so fast. We were all being held at gunpoint by different men as the leader taunted Rick. These were not the types of guys to handle business and be done. They fed off fear. They lived by their own laws; their right to "claim" people and things as their own. It was sickening. My stomach had lurched and I could feel the familiar feeling of dread start to seep into my bones as the man's grip on me tightened and pulled me against him. His rancid breath was fanning over my skin and I struggled to not vomit right there. My skin was crawling and quick flashes of my attack filtered through my mind like a fast moving slideshow. Alarm and panic rose in my chest to levels I didn't even know were possible when the man holding Carl started to harass him. The man teased and taunted about what he had in mind for the boy and I felt my blood run cold at his insinuation. Everything was a blur after that. Suddenly, the men were dead and we were all still alive, but it came at a price. I looked to Carl and he was already changing from the boy he had been. I met Rick's eyes through the blood splattered on his face and I could see it within him too. Things were definitely different now.

None of us have been able to really sleep, but I insisted everyone try anyway. It was a lame attempt, but I was left alone like I wanted. I watch the small flames of the fire and find myself wishing to be as light as a dancing flame. I wished to not have any other job, but to be the flame or the wind blowing the flame. I shake my head and laugh at my need to be both dramatic and poetic. I look across the fire and see Rick still perched against a log sleeping soundly. I was doubtful he would take my advice and rest, but surprisingly he did and I've watched him sleep for the last hour. I studied his face and relished the absolute stillness blanketed across it. There are no worry lines or frowns marring his features. He is beautiful.

I think back to the moment we shared earlier after our massacre of the assholes. None of us slept that night and into the morning Rick sat still on the side of the road against a car. I wanted to go to him, but I knew he needed time. He needed to be alone. After awhile, I noticed Daryl sit next to him. I could hear them talking, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I left them there for a while. Carl was latched to Michonne and I busy myself with gathering our things so we can make a fast escape if we need to. I notice Daryl get up and we meet gazes. He only nods at me and I find myself returning the gesture. I immediately go to Rick. He is still sitting on the road, but now he's trying to rub the blood off his face and beard. I can tell the blood has already dried and is pulling at his whiskers against the force of the rag he's using. I say nothing, but I hold out my hand to him. His eyes look to my hand and up to my face before he accepts and stands up. I wrap his hand in mine and lead him into the woods. He isn't fighting me or peppering me with questions. I know there is a creek just off the road and we walk silently through the woods as the sound of running water meets our ears. I sit him down on an oversized rock and take the rag from him. I go to the creek and drench the rag in the clear water. The stream turns a faint red as remnants of blood from the cloth wash into the creek.

Rick is still silent and he lets me take care of him. He lets me wash his face, hands, and hair. I'm gentle and tender as I get every last bit of that asshole's blood off his face. It takes awhile, but I'm able to erase any evidence of that man off Rick. The rag is ruined and I drop it to the ground in abandonment. I go to the bank and wash my own hands off. The water feels good against my dry skin and I happily watch the blood disappear into the creek.

When I turn around, Rick is still sitting where I left him, but his eyes are trained on me like a predator stalking his prey. I feel goose bumps prickle my skin at his stare and suddenly my throat is too dry. I go to him. Like a moth to a flame I'm in front of him in record time. I let my hands tangle in his now clean hair and his eyes shut briefly before they are open again and trained on me. I get the sudden urge to wrap him in my arms and I do. I feel his forehead resting on my stomach as his hands finally come up and grip my hips with urgency I'd never felt from him before. I continue to stroke his hair and silently communicate to him that I'm here. I feel his hands move around to my backside and his fingers dance along my bare skin under my shirt. The first stirring of arousal makes its way to the surface and I remain unmoving as I let his hands freely roam my body. I feel the roughness of his beard against my skin and then I feel his lips along my bare stomach. I close my eyes at the sensation and look down to meet his eyes. His gaze has softened, but I can still see the intensity there and above all, I can feel it.

He suddenly stands and it nearly throws me off balance until his arms lock around my waist and his lips anchor against my own. Automatically, my body welcomes him. My arms wrap around his neck and my body presses flush against his. I feel his arousal and I moan into his mouth in response. I feel him push me further into him as his hands tangle into my hair. His lips have moved to my neck and I've gone from threading my hands into his hair to gripping the strands hard with pleasure. His hands are moving rapidly over my body and I'm struggling to keep up.

Rick and I have only slept together one other time since our first coupling at the prison. We agreed to take things slow, but sometimes, like now, the need far outweighs anything else. I can feel that need, his want, his hunger and I know that now is not the time to question what we're about to do. I feel his fingers on the buttons of my jeans and I help him shimmy them and my underwear down my legs. I get the offending clothing off once I've removed my shoes and Rick wastes no time in hauling me into his arms and up against a tree. He's already undone the button and zipper on his own jeans and I wrap my legs tightly around him as I pull him from the confines of his clothes and rub myself against him. We both moan lowly at the contact of our naked flesh and without warning, he's thrusting up into me. I bite my lip to keep from making too much noise as he pounds into me without mercy. One of his hands works my shirt and bra up, exposing my breasts to his hungry lips. I'm so close already and I know he isn't far behind. I clench myself around him and he thrusts harder in response. I can feel him leaving a mark on my breast and the thought that he wants to mark me as his own makes the lights dance behind my eyelids. I feel myself flutter around him as my body pulls him further in. I'm moaning lowly and I struggle to reign it in so as not to draw attention to us. I feel my limbs go lax as Rick is continuing to pump himself inside me. I clench around him again and he growls as he quickly pulls out and releases himself on the ground. He's still supporting me and we stay like that for a moment. His head is resting on my shoulder and I once again find my fingers in his hair.

I want to ask him if he's alright. I want to know what he's thinking and how he's feeling. I know him and if I had to take a guess, I'd bet he was blaming himself. Rick knows that most times I need a push to get my ass in gear. He is the opposite. He can't be rushed or prodded. That is both a blessing and a curse. He is in his head so much so that at times he is his own worse enemy. I can relate. We are both thinkers and self-deprecating. Most of our time is spent reassuring the other that they're not the basket case or the screw up we think we are. It is an exhausting dance, but one we choose to do together.

We pull apart, clean up, and dress quickly. No words are said as we trek back to the road. No words are needed. I find his hand and give it a gentle squeeze and he does the same in return. We pull apart just before we reach the road. We make it back to Michonne, Carl, and Daryl and Rick is instantly back in leader mode.

I'm pulled back to the present when I hear someone behind me, but I don't jump up. I know Daryl is off keeping watch somewhere silently. I feel someone's presence next to me on the log and see its Carl. I'm stunned and I can't seem to find words to fill the silence. I know nothing I say will help or soften what's happened or almost happened to him, so I don't bother with false assurances or babying. He would see right through that bullshit anyway. I watch him for a moment, but he's facing the fire. His face is blank and I feel completely helpless. I know it's best to leave him be, but I feel a pull to start conversation. It's something I owe to him and it's long overdue.

"I owe you an apology." My voice is brittle and low and I clear my throat against the dryness. Carl says nothing, but he's turned to stare at me with questioning eyes. He and I have never had long conversations. Come to think of it, I haven't had any long conversations with anyone besides Rick. I realize, too late, how wrong I was to alienate myself from everyone else.

"For what?" His words pull my eyes back to his and I can tell he's leery of my intentions. I look back to the fire and then across it to his father who is still sleeping.

"For me. For my selfishness. For the wedge I stuck between your parents and between you and your dad."

I don't bother trying to tip-toe around the issue for him. He wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. I notice his eyes are so much like Rick's it's a little scary. Their emotions are so clearly displayed in the cerulean pools. I can tell he doesn't know what to do with my impromptu confession and I go to further explain.

"I didn't mean to cause friction with your family. Your dad…he helped me through a really rough time in my life, before all this." I motion with my hands around us to signal what I meant. He's watching me intently and I struggle to go on. "I got really sick I guess you could say. I-uh-I didn't have anyone else and your dad was there."

"Why are you telling me this?" His tone is questioning and not at all angry like I thought it would be.

I shrug my shoulders in response. "You deserve an explanation…an apology for the grief I've caused. I've taken your dad away from you and your sister and I shouldn't have allowed that to happen."

He doesn't say anything in response and I decide to let him think on it. It was his choice if he chose to accept my apology or not. I go back to watching the low flames dance when Carl's voice surprises me.

"Olivia, you…something bad happened to you right? Like what almost happened to me?"

His voice is small, like the child he's supposed to be and I can't help the sheen of tears that glides over my eyes. His words almost make me speechless, but I recover quickly. I look away from him and nod my head in response. "How-how do you know that?" I ask quietly. I'm not upset that he knows, but I had no idea he even knew an inkling of what had happened to me.

"I heard my mom mention it to Carol while we were on the road." He supplies. I only nod in response. I'm not sure what to say. I don't have to dwell on it long before Carl is speaking again. "I don't blame you for what happened between my parents. They were broken long before you came along."

I study him as he looks into the fire. He sounds so grown up in comparison to the child he seemed to be just moments before.

"And as for me and-," He hesitates and I can tell he's struggling just to say her name aloud. "And Judith, well that's my fault. I've been an ass. My dad…you make him happy. That's all that matters."

He locks gazes with me and there's an understanding that passes between us. We both have our faults where Rick is concerned, but we're taking steps to make things right. I can tell he now sees me as someone he can relate to and I promise myself to not overlook this young man anymore.

Carl gets up to leave and I stop him before he gets too far. "Carl…" He stops and faces me and I sigh, finding the strength within myself to get the words out. "What happened…with you and with me…you can't let it swallow you, okay? You're better than that."

I finish weakly and I feel stupid for trying to assure him like I said I wouldn't. He stares at me for a moment and I'm afraid I've upset him, but his face shows no trace of anger. "Thanks." He mumbles and walks back to the van. I release the breath I'd been holding and face the fire again. It's died down considerably throughout the night, but small flames are still dancing across the darkness. I look to Rick and I'm surprised to see he's awake. I can't read his face and I'm nervous. I don't know how much he heard or if he feels I overstepped a boundary. I wait as he gets up and takes the spot previously held by Carl on the log. He still looks worn and tired and I feel the urge to touch him, but I resist.

"Thanks." His voice is rough and laced with sleep and I'm confused by his words. I don't know what he's referring to and I mirror that in my gaze. Rick isn't looking at me, but at the dying fire and so I ask him aloud. "For what?" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. I can feel his body heat next to me and I inch closer to soak up as much as I can.

"For what you said to Carl, for earlier…for helping me."

I can tell that he's ashamed of his behavior when we were by the creek and I quickly grab his hand and encase it in both of mine. "No thanks needed Rick."

"Still…earlier…in the woods…I didn't stop to ask if you were okay." His head is down and he's pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. I find myself becoming angry with him and his incessant need to place blame and responsibility on his shoulders.

I grab his face and let my hands rest on his bearded cheeks so I can meet his eyes. "I was fine. I would've told you otherwise."

"But with all that's happened I should've asked you. That guy was all over you too and I never…"

He trails off and I let my forehead rest against his. "This wasn't about me Rick, for once." I laugh lightly and I see a smirk break out onto his face.

"Look at me Rick." I demand softly. Slowly, he raises his head and meets my gaze as I continue to caress his cheeks with my hands. "I'm fine." I assure him. He only nods and I reluctantly let him go. We go back to watching the fire, but I can tell he's still thinking hard. Our relationship was like that. We were so good at knowing what the other needed without having to voice it. It was all in a look or touch. Sometimes it felt as if we were telepathic. I swore more than once he could read my mind because he always seemed to know what I needed even if I hated him for it.

"We'll get through this." My words surprise even myself. I haven't been one for positivity lately, but I feel the reassurance is necessary. Rick's well is running dry, along with everyone else's after the other night. I'd already experienced something similar and I was drawing from a place of familiarity and strength. I already knew people carried that kind of evil and what they could do with it. It was my turn to share the burden.

"I don't regret what I did Olivia." Rick's voice is colder, but faint as the words leave his lips and fall into the night.

"Good. You shouldn't." I recognize the same tone in my own voice and I know that all the talk of hope for humanity will be gone. The only hope we have left is the same hope that still drives us. We need each other and that includes _everyone_. Our group needs to be whole again, for Rick's sake and I'm slowly finding out for my own as well.


End file.
